Eeeeehhhh.

Name That Tune! (Now With Answers)

Recently on the blog of our dear friend, Heather, she offered a game of "name that tune" in which she shared the story of her toddler's request for a Christmas song called "Tails" and her two week search to try and figure out what her daughter was requesting.

Of course, Matthew and I laughed ourselves silly at this story -- it's always fun to hear other parents experience the same things we do. Malcolm, as you'll know if you've ever met him, is very music oriented. Every toy in our toy box is either a microphone (hairbrush, flashlight), a guitar (broom, hockey stick), a drum (hamper, cardboard box), or a drumstick for banging on the drum (chopsticks, pencils). His favorite activities include playing Rock Band (especially if we play the guitar and he does the singing on his new pencil, or drums on his upside down toy bin), drumming along to music on my computer, and singing along to music in the car. Like all young kids, he has his favorites, and demands them constantly. And like our friend's daughter, it can be something of a mental puzzle to figure out just what song, exactly, he's requesting.

So, here is our own Malcolm edition of Name That Tune. Please feel free to post your guesses in the comments section, or send me an email if you prefer!

What song is Malcolm requesting when he asks for:

(Hint: these are all from Rock Band, if you don't know the game, just think Rock genre)

• Tiger (Eye of the Tiger)
• Opening (Hello There by Cheap Trick)
• Hayho Less Go (Blitzkrieg Bop)
• Sisamisssy Keen (Mississippi Queen)
• Woah Woah Woah Woah (Welcome Home by Cohead & Cambria)

Malcolm's 3rd Birthday Party

Last weekend, we celebrated Malcolm's 3rd birthday with a little party. Fun times!

I made the cake myself (made from two bundt cakes: funfetti and strawberry chocolate chip) Turns out, that if you add enough frosting, you can make anything look right!)

Many of our family and friends joined us. Ball-a-palooza and tunnel-wresting were big hits.

Daddy created hopscotch!

Friends built towers with mini marshmallows and toothpicks.

Make a Wish!

Happy Birthday!!!

Three years old, my sweet son! Have you really grown so big? You have your own thoughts now, your own unique ideas, creative ways of viewing the world. You tell jokes, sing songs. Your tendency to tantrum fades as your ability to negotiate grows.

I love the way you climb into my bed while I'm brushing my teeth, then watch the door, waiting for me to come back and catch you stealing my Zzzzs. I love to way you squee with laughter when I tickle you under the chin. I love when I walk in the door after work, and you scream "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!" and run to hug me. And I love that you'll wait for that hug until I've changed out of my germy clothes and washed my hands, saying "wait for it . . . . wait for it . . . wait for it . . . . " I love the way you pick up your toys, one by one, while I'm studying for my exam, and bring them to me, singing "This is for you, Mommy!" I love your belly laughs when I make the green beans play "don't eat me!!" I love they way you'll hear a whistle, plane go by, a car back fire, or a dog fart and then you ask me, "Mommy, did you hear something?" I love when you ask me, "Mommy can I call B-Ma on the phone? Sing ABCs?" I love that you think "party" is something to eat, that "birthdays" are what you blow out after singing, and I love that you insist we sing Happy Birthday once for each person in the room (and an extra verse for Grandma, too.)

I love being your Mommy. And I love you.

Happy Halloween!

Malcolm the Ninja!

Ninja Malcolm with Mommy the Kitty Cat

Malcolm's Mighty Ninja Hands . . . Hai-Yah!

Matthew is down with a cold this year, leaving just Malcolm and I to go trick-or-treating. Our apartment complex doesn't have much in the way of chocolate-seeking fun, what with having to buzz into each building . . . so we branched out a bit. We ended up over on the other side of town, trick-or-treating at his honorary Aunt & Uncle's house. In addition to trick or treat chocolates, they also invited Malcolm in for homemade cookies and a glass of milk.

After that, Malcolm and I tootled off to explore the neighborhood. Malcolm loved trick-or-treating this year, and really got into it. "Mommy, I want to trick-or-treat that house, right there!" he would declare, pointing imperiously at one house, and then the next.

Let me preface this last part . . . what Malcolm did next was entirely of his own accord, with absolutely no prompting from me at all!

As we were wrapping up for the evening, with a just a few houses to go, the nice lady of the house opened the door, and Malcolm said "Happy Halloween. Trick or Treat!" (This is what we'd been saying all night at each door. After she held out the bowl and he picked out one (just one!) treat, he said "Thank you." (Again, we'd practiced this all night as well.) But then, he decided to chime in with a new request:

"I want to take one for Mommy, please!"

Needless to say, the lady was (very) charmed, and I was (a tiny bit) mortified. Malcolm truly meant what he'd said though. With her permission, he picked out an extra candy, and turned and handed it to me. "This is for you, Mommy!"

Too sweet! (He even picked out a Reeses. My favorite!)

Halloween Fun at the Zoo with Friends!

The Comfort of the Comforter

Matthew and I recently retrieved our thick down comforter from storage and laid it out on our bed. Snuggling up, toasty warm, under it has always been one of my favorite parts of the cold weather days. Needless to say, Atlanta didn't have much call for the comforter. I'm not too excited about coming back to Rochester winter, but I am glad to have my comforter.

This morning, I woke up to the beep-beep of my alarm, wrapped cocoon-like in an eternal thickness of warm, warm comforter. I looked at my clock, and thought about how cold the air was on the tip of my nose -- the only part of me sticking out, and proceeded to glare at the alarm clock. Alas, that didn't stop the beep-beep either, so I slipped an arm out to whack the snooze alarm, and zipped it back in as quickly as possible. It was even colder out there than I thought, and I felt extremely grateful that my comforter is big enough to cover me the tips of toes, to up over my head like giant warm hood.

After the third snooze alarm, I gritted my teeth, and slipped out (being careful not to let the cold air in, where Matthew still slept under the comforter. I brushed my teeth in record time, while thinking about which thick wooly sweater I would wear to work.

I returned to my room to discover that Malcolm had left his bed, and climbed into ours. He was curled up under the comforter (my comforter), stretched across my pillow, and snuggled up with Daddy.

"Hi Mommy!"

"Good morning, Malcolm."

"Mommy, I'm in your bed! I'm stealing your Zzzz's."